


Reflex

by severinne



Series: The Wind and Its Satellite [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gratuitous masturbation scene cut from <em>Recompense</em>, in which McCoy wonders how it could be between him and Captain Pike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflex

McCoy woke up in the middle of the night, breathless and rock-hard beneath the sheets.

Heart hammering so loud that he feared waking Jim in the next bed, McCoy turned his face into the pillow to muffle his gasping breaths, flickers of dream replaying behind his tightly shut eyelids. He had been reliving his first lesson on the phaser range from earlier in the week, an unsettling enough ordeal without the sudden appearance of Captain Pike in his subconscious re-enactment of the lesson, all flashing eyes and smirking lips and a phaser pressing hard to the small of his back.

The symbolism was not lost on McCoy’s psychology training, or his libido.

His cock twitched in his pajama pants as his skin awakened with the false sense memory, tingling where the cold titanium of the weapon had bruised his flesh. He squirmed restlessly in his bed, recalling how the Pike in this dream had held him captive, steering him with his other hand tight around his neck and pushing him through an ominous door that had sprung up from nowhere, forcing him into the dark room and onto his knees…

And then he had jerked awake, the vision gone but his undeniable arousal firmly intact. McCoy pressed a hand over himself through the bedclothes, sighing deeply at the heat and weight of his lust, impossible to ignore.

Casting a wary glance at Jim’s bunk, listening carefully to the slow breaths of his sleep, McCoy slipped a hand beneath the blankets, teasing down his naked chest and stomach on his way to the waistband of his pajamas. His fingers slipped beneath the loose elastic and settled slow and resigned around the girth of his cock, quietly resentful of having nothing but this for a sex life but knowing it was for the best, given the risks inherent in returning to Pike’s bed.

The captain was a danger to him, a threat that proved easier to examine in the safety of his ever more twisted imagination. Every masochistic impulse in him rose to this, brought Pike to life as both his tormentor and plaything, an exaggeration of everything commanding and cruel lurking in the captain’s otherwise gentle eyes.

He stroked himself slowly at first, eyes falling shut over images of how it would have gone in his dream, how Pike would have bent him to his will. The phaser was nothing to his hold over McCoy’s reputation and career, though his breath hitched to think of Pike tracing its chill over his body, making him worship its power with his mouth before tossing the weapon aside as the hollow toy it was in order to lay hands on the real, breathing toy kneeling at his feet.

McCoy’s thumb coaxed the sensitive head of his dick, spreading the thin fluid down his length as he throbbed hotter at the thought. Perhaps Pike would have been aroused at the show of his lips caressing the phaser and demand to fuck his mouth next. McCoy slid two fingers of his left hand into his mouth, stifling his soft moan while he gently sucked, trying to imagine what Pike might taste like on his tongue and regretting that he had never found out that night but it didn’t matter now that Pike had him, naked and at his mercy in this featureless dark room.

Pike would grip him by the hair while pushing past his lips, taunt him with whispered filth while his own mouth was unable to reply, words that McCoy would have muttered aloud to himself right here and now if not for the fingers in his mouth and Jim sleeping mere feet away. He played the insults in his mind instead, could almost hear Pike rasping _slut_ and _whore_ and _dirty cocksucking bitch_ directly into his ear, driving on his arousal and making his hips arch off the bed into his quickening hand.

He bit back a whine as he dragged his fingers from his mouth, shoving his hand into his pajama pants alongside the first and growling softly when his scant clothing constricted his movement. Frustration made him force his pants down his thighs in a single brisk tug before he recalled the need for silence; chest heaving, he hesitated, staring at the ceiling and listening to the tempo of Jim’s sleep, relieved to hear his breaths as steady as ever.

Slowly, carefully, McCoy rolled onto his side, facing away from Jim’s bed, and stretched one arm behind him while continuing to stroke his cock in his right hand. Though uncomfortable, he relished the strain on his body as he brushed spit-wet fingers over his hole, could so easily imagine Pike forcing him into this position with his face buried in the pillow to muffle his cries. With an unexpected frisson of desire, he wondered if Pike would go as far as tying him up, and it was all he could do to not hump the mattress straight to a rapid and messy orgasm right there. _Yes_ , of course Pike would want him completely helpless, and he still had that tie he had selected for McCoy’s new suit, pale green silk that would bind his wrists tight behind his back, or to the headboard of a bed… whatever Pike wanted of his whore.

Release burned too close to the surface now, McCoy’s mind racing through possibilities as his hand pumped faster over his throbbing cock. He worked a finger too quickly into his ass, simultaneously pictured Pike’s hands, tongue, cock and countless inanimate toys in its place as he came all over his fingers and suffocated a low groan of pleasure into the inadequate depths of his pillow.

The endorphins of his orgasm faded far too quickly, left McCoy panting facedown in his bed, shoulders hunched defensively with a come-slick hand snarled bitterly into the sheets. They would need washing now, and he tiredly resolved to wait until Jim went for his morning jog before bothering with his filth. He sagged wearily into the hard mattress, wondering absently if Pike would actually prove to be a tender and considerate lover, as their one night had suggested.

As sleep took him, he also wondered, with a more honest mind, if that much consideration could make trust enough for Pike to be more like the man he had just imagined.


End file.
